


Emotional Musings

by cynicalwerewolf



Category: LACKEY Mercedes - Works, The Free Bards
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalwerewolf/pseuds/cynicalwerewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deliambrens do not have strong emotions. Everyone knows that. But Harperus does...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotional Musings

The youngster, Harperus wasn’t going to bother using the foolish child’s name, was next to useless. Harperus hoped he had never been a century the way this boy was. He didn’t believe so. But then, he had always been more than odd.

Remembering the burning emotions he had experienced while Nightingale spoke of T’fyrr’s kidnapping, he found enough clarity to wonder if he had experienced what the other races termed ‘rage’. Certainly it fit all the symptoms. If wanting to strangle the young fool for his useless insistence on the impossibility of what had clearly happened was rage, anger to an extreme, he could understand why humans sometimes reacted…extremely.

But if it had been rage, it was further confirmation that he was odd among his people, as if any were needed. Deliambrens did not rage. They experienced no joy, no terror, no strong emotions. They had been bred for that.

The youngster watched Harperus warily as he sent out commands to his agents. Harperus forced himself to run through the focusing exercises that his family’s Eldest had taught him when she noticed the young Harperus’s oddity. It was she who eventually told her descendant how the Deliambrens came into being.

Long before the Cataclysm, on the human home world, far from Alanda, the humans had wanted to perfect themselves a police and soldier race. The Deliambrens resulted from careful breeding and genetic manipulation, increased healing, strength, intelligence, and logic were selected for, as was greatly decreased emotional response. Curiosity meant that those who were unsuited for battle often went into the technological sciences, where emotional lack was less noted.

Harperus was _remenfael_ , a throwback, having a greater emotional range than his people usually experienced.

Harperus didn’t curse those who bred his forbearers. What was done was done. He did curse his people’s arrogant assurance that they had all the answers. He fell prey to it himself at times. For example, magic. Did humans have magic? He could not say, but he recognized that those known as mages could produce effects that could not be explained by science, and since humans called everything that they could not explain ‘magic’, magic was an acceptable term.

“It is done,” the youngster said.

Harperus shook himself. It was dangerous to be distracted. He should know. “Very well.” He stood to leave.

The youngster looked at him with bewildered eyes, asking, “Why are you so…adamant in your demands? It isn’t as though either Lyre…Nightingale or T’fyrr are our people.”

“They are our agents, child,” Harperus said harshly, “That makes them our people. I have led T’fyrr into danger twice; I owe it to him to get him out of it, no matter how much it inconveniences me.” The boy nodded his acknowledgement of that debt, even if he didn’t understand the strength of the need. “And Nightingale and her people are the closest I will ever come to having children.”

Blinking, the boy finally put everything together, “You are _remenfael_?” He said it the way a good churchgoing human would ask about cultic activities.

“Yes, boy. I am _remenfael_.” Watching the child back away from him, Harperus said sarcastically, “It isn’t catching, I assure you.”

Forcing himself to settle down, the boy said, “My-my pardon, Envoy Harperus.”

Not wanting to stay here longer and feeling that he was needed back at the Palace for damage control, Harperus stood, saying, “Inform me at once if _anything_ happens. And be certain I will know if you are lying.”

“Yes, Envoy,” the boy was chastised. He stood to escort Harperus out. As they reached the door, he whispered, “I apologize. You may claim a vote favor and personal favor any time you wish.”

“I will take you up on the vote favor,” Harperus said, “But I never accept or offer personal favors. I find them distastefully close to nonconsensual.”

The boy blinked again, and said, “Oh,” in a surprised tone. Sighing, Harperus left. He’d have it out with the youngster and his superiors later. For now, he needed to do what he could politically to help Nightingale and T’fyrr.


End file.
